


Amnesia

by AlexFierra201



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But there are still trolls, Jim Lake Jr. Is Not the Trollhunter, Jim Lake Jr. Needs a Hug (Tales of Arcadia), Like there isn't one in this universe, Multi, Parent Blinky (Trollhunters), STRICKLER IS NOT A CHANGELING, Toby Domzalski is a Good Friend, Toby is confusion, Troll Culture (Or at least my take on it), Troll Dads (Tales of Arcadia), Troll Jim Lake Jr.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27999384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexFierra201/pseuds/AlexFierra201
Summary: Just before he turns fifteen, James Lake Jr goes missing. He's a normal teen, average grades, kind personality, perfectly normal.His family mourn the absence of a son, and his best friend cries for a companion who won't be coming back.A year later, a half-troll wakes up in a pond in a forest, with no memories, and no idea how he got there. Thank god for the six-eyed troll that found him and brought him to safety.Blinky and AAARRGH aren't entirely sure what's up with the amnesiac youngling they seemed to have acquired, but they love him nonetheless.And above ground, Douxie can tell there's something coming for Arcadia, something bad, and something Eternal.
Relationships: Aaarrrgghh & Jim Lake Jr. (Tales of Arcadia), Aaarrrgghh/Blinkous "Blinky" Galadrigal, Barbara Lake/Walter Strickler | Stricklander, Blinkous "Blinky" Galadrigal & Jim Lake Jr., Hisirdoux "Douxie" Casperan & Claire Nuñez, Hisirdoux "Douxie" Casperan & Jim Lake Jr., Jim Lake Jr./Claire Nuñez, Toby Domzalski & Jim Lake Jr.
Comments: 54
Kudos: 180





	1. 1. Drowning is not nice

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so Jim is not the Trollhunter - there is no 'Trollhunter', but there is still a Janus order, and of course Bular and Gunmar.

  
  
  
  


When he first opened his eyes, all he could see was water.

Black, blue, dark green, lapping and oscillating upon his body. Completely submerged, it flowed over his head ruffling hair like fingers running through the strands. Long, hairy, slimy slim flaps of algae tickled his toes, caressing each foot gently and calmly. It was quite muddy, and though he couldn’t see very far in any direction, what he could spot were the hundreds of tiny grains of dirt riddling the liquid and making it too blurry to concentrate on anything.

_ Where was he? _

Attempting to look into his own memories, he found nothing, a complete emptiness, as murky as the water around him. It was as if he had only started existing for a few seconds, maybe a minute - though surely he couldn’t be that young.

Fingers flexing, he experimented in movements, lifting an arm so that he could inspect his own hand. The colour was hidden by the thick water, but the shape looked unfamiliar, a part of his brain chanting  _ wrong, wrong, wrong _ , yet he couldn’t think of what it was supposed to look like. Three thick digits stared back at him, an inch from his own eyes, huge and rough. Tentatively, he brushed the fingertips over his cheek, feeling the cool hardness.

It was then, that his throat began to whine in pain, lungs yearning for oxygen. Muscles seized up, as if telling him to do _something_ , but he couldn’t tell what. Was he supposed to go up? Down? His blurred and frantic mind couldn't even tell which way was which, too disoriented to do anything but squirm underwater. In his pain and confusion, he opened his mouth, letting in a heave of water which he immediately regretted, the dense volume filling his insides rapidly.

_ Why wouldn’t it stop?  _ He began choking, gagging for something he couldn't find. 'Air' , his mind supplied.

_ It hurt. It hurt so, so much. _

Until it began to dim, turning mellow, as if his mind were disconnected from his body. The tight pain coursing from his lungs was distant, happening out of sync with his consciousness. _Was he dying?_ He'd only just realised that he was alive.

With one last silent choke, his eyes fluttered closed, unconsciousness bringing him under her pull.

  
  


\------------

When he came into awareness next, it was once again in unfamiliar territory.

For some few minutes, he flitted in and out of awareness, too weak to move or even open his eyes - the only thing he could do was listen. Deep, rumbling voices spoke in a conversation, though he couldn’t tell exactly how many there were. Full sentences eluded him, and he barely managed to grasp onto strings of understandable words.

_ “-Vendel, he was hurt, drowning...”  _ One voice said in an almost begging tone, soft and anxious sounding.

_ Drowning? _ So that’s what had caused all the pain. He had a vague recollection of what that word meant, but couldn’t remember how he’d learnt it.

Between bouts of unconsciousness, he caught lines of a tense conversation.

_ “-ust lucky you got him out soon enough...could have died if you hadn’t dragged him out…” _

_ “...I don’t recognise him...doesn’t even look like a full troll…” _

_ The next line was exclaimed, the speaker flabbergasted and shocked. He felt cool fingers trace the area above his heart, sending shivers up his body.“...By Gorgus....what in Deya’s name is that in his chest?...” _

_ What was wrong with his chest? _ He couldn’t feel anything wrong - although mind you, he couldn’t feel much of anything at that moment.

_ “...yes, well, let’s just hope he wakes up soon…” _

Right, waking up. He should really get onto that. Yet his eyelids wouldn’t budge, remaining firmly closed. Muscles refused to move and orchestrate his limbs into a different position. Inside his mind, he shouted for release.

Unwillingly, he fell back asleep.

\----------

The first thing he noticed was light. Golden and orange, yellow-tinted around the edges like the sun. But he was not outside.

When his vision cleared a little, it came into focus and he realised it was a glowing crystal protruding from the ceiling like a stalactite. All around it was a dull grey, the roof of the room smoothed out stone.

He flexed his fingers experimentally, feeling a soft layer of fabric beneath him, and below that, something hard. Bones slid and muscles stretched as he moved his neck side to side, rolling it around and dismantling the knots in it. With each movement of his head, he could feel a pillow, lumpy and uneven. Two pressures from the top of his head panged dull against his skull, but he was still a little too tired to figure out what they were.

An exhale of breath left his lips, and he was beyond glad that what he breathed in was  _ air _ , not anymore of that wretched water. With an inhale, he took in the scents of the room - wax, earthy, warm, and of old, yellowing pages in books.

The  _ second _ thing he noticed, when he twisted his head around to the side, were six wide reddish brown eyes, the whites gone a pale yellow. Blue stone surrounded them, altogether forming a wide face with a surprised expression. Huge sharp teeth jutted from navy lips, a few of them missing or chipped.

He froze up, resting on his elbows as for a few moments, they just stared at each other, neither one knowing what to do.

“Please, do not panic,” The large, stony creature said calmly, and he recognised it as one of the voices he’d heard before. Two three-fingered hands raised themselves as if to say _‘don’t worry’_ , and it was with a shocked realisation that he saw the creature had _ four  _ arms.

He felt his eyes widen. He couldn't tell why, but his brain screamed at him instinctually, _this is not right._

The huge blue being continued speaking, gesticulating as he went along a verbal journey. “My partner and I found you unconscious in a pond up on the surface a few hours ago,” He said in an almost chiding voice, as if he had _chosen_ to drown in a pond. “You’re lucky that we got there when we did, otherwise you might not have survived.”

Now he was looking close, he could see how the being’s skin was alike to a statue’s chiselled marks vertically tracing up his rounded chin. Two sharp horns poked out from a bald head, though from around the same level as his floppy ears, blue hair flicked backwards.

“Th-thanks.” He muttered, in a quiet and groggy voice.

His apparent rescuer smiled toothily, and slapped his knees before standing up from his stool. “I’m just going to get you a drink, so you just rest for a while longer - I won’t take more than a moment!” Clumsily, he exited the small room, pushed past a faded red curtain in the doorway and disappeared from view. Clomping footsteps walked away.

Wherever he was, he didn’t recognise it.

It had no windows, which creeped him out a fair bit, despite the fact that he couldn’t figure out  _ why _ it unsettled him. Like the glowing gem hanging above him, a similar one was placed on a desk, lit candles dripping wax over its surface. Bookshelves covered an entire wall, though they were only partially full, and with little knick knacks sat amongst the tomes as if hidden. A small, glistening green gem nestled between two brown books, about the size of a fist, which caught his eye as he thought it was particularly beautiful looking. 

He sat up, pulling himself back so that he could lean against the headboard of the bed ( A slab of stone carved into the wall covered in soft fabrics) and surveyed the room from higher up.

The floor was almost covered by a light blue rug, woven from a thick material and sat on a floor of dark grey stone. It was worn and rustic, old but tough enough to stay together through an age. The stool, which had been pushed a few feet away from the bed, was topped with leather, and supported by wooden legs. The only thing on his other side was a smooth stone wall, a drawing of a valley chiselled into it. Smooth lines created layers of hills, and a twisting river of wavy curves.

Running his fingers over it, the sight of his own hands again made him feel a huge swell of wrongness in his stomach, as if they weren’t really his. They were blue, a light blue, and stoney, like the one who’d gone to get him a drink. Black nails, long enough to possibly be considered claws tipped the ends of each finger, though one hand had one more than the other. The dusty blue continued up his arms, and he assumed, his entire body. As far as he could tell, there was nothing wrong with his body. 

Maybe it was just almost drowning in a pond that had addled his mind.

Footsteps grew closer, and he turned around just in time to see him return, a ceramic cup in one of his hands. He smiled warmly, and sat back on his stool. When he pressed the cup into the younger one’s hand, it was cool, and he noticed it filled to the brim with clear water.

“My name’s Blinkous, my boy, though you can just call me Blinky,” Blinky shuffled around where he was perched, to get comfy.

He nodded in acknowledgement, and took a little sip, not ready to have a huge gulp of water in his mouth again.

When Blinky spoke, it was in a soft voice, like one talks to a cornered small animal. “May I ask what your name is?”

He nodded, and rested the cup on his lap. Blinky's eyes watched him, only encouraging and kindness glistening in the irises. He found it hard to decide which of the six eyes he should look into. 

“Uhm, yeah, sure, I’m-”

It was like his mouth had been frozen. There was something on the tip of his tongue, just waiting to be spoken-

Blinky leaned in closer, frowning. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch what you said, what was your name?”

“It’s-”  _ I don’t remembe _ r “It’s-”  _ Something beginning with a ‘J’... _

_ Right? _

_ Why couldn’t he remember his own name? _

“I-I don’t know,” He told Blinky, voice trembling a little. The elder one gasped quietly, sitting back on the edge of his seat.

“You can’t remember?” One blue finger tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Perhaps you just need a little more time to come to your senses.” One stony brow raised, and he began firing off questions at him inquisitively.

“Can you remember where you live?”

A head shook sadly, noting the feeling of an odd weight on the back of his head.

“How old you are?”

_ Shake. _

“Your parents?”

_ Shake. _

“Can you not even remember  _ why _ you were in the pond?”

_ Another shake _ . 

With each negative answer to his questions, Blinky’s face fell even further.  “Great Gronka Morka! How am I to return you to your family if even you do not know who they are?” He sighed, nostrils flaring, though he didn’t seem mad, just frustrated. “Is there anything you  _ can _ remember? Anything at all?”

It took awhile for him to respond. “I-I think my name begins with a J….Maybe,” He suggested, although he wasn’t entirely sure. His shoulders slumped down in fatigue.

Blinky smiled triumphantly. “Well, that’s something at least!”

“How would you feel about being called ‘Jay’?”

**\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Toby looked out at the moon hanging in the sky, her white light casting glimmers over the rain-covered roof of the Lake house. He’d only visited one or two times since Jim had gone missing, not wanting to go inside without his best friend accompanying him. He was afraid it would wake up too many memories, and he’d break down on Dr Lake’s floor in a heap of tears and wails.

Even though Jim had been gone a year, no one had dared to move a single item in his room, so when Toby looked out his own window and into the one of Jim’s bedroom, he could see his friend’s cluttered desk, the Vespa poster on his wall, and pretend that he was just late from school. He could be back any minute.

When he’d first heard the news, his Nana holding him on the couch whilst he bawled, he still believed that he would be back, that someone, somewhere, would bring him back to them. Hopefully, Jim would come back in a week, he told himself.

A week turned into a month. Months turned into half a year, summer turned to fall, and eventually a year had passed with no sign of his return.

One single tear rolled down his cheek, splashing into the photo in his hands. He’d already cried enough, this past year.

In the two-dimensional printed memory, Toby was grinning like a fool into the camera, comfily squished into the sofa under a green fluffy blanket, Jim tucked up under his arm like a gangly noodle. He too, smiled, cheek pressed up against Toby’s chest. The photo was crinkled by fold lines, three hundred and sixty five days of being kept in Toby’s pocket. Written in black pen, Nana’s handwriting in the bottom right corner was the date.

**8th October, Toby’s 15th Birthday**

The happiest day of his life so far, with the most harrowing day falling after.

His birthday would never feel happy again, being the same night his best friend disappeared without a trace.


	2. turns out there is more to the surface world than scary ponds. who knew?

Jay was...settling in, to say the least.

One month, and not a single memory had resurfaced. Not that he minded particularly, since he didn’t miss something he couldn’t remember. Although a small part of him did wonder where he came from, he never dwelled on it for too long.

He stayed in the same room he’d woken up in, inside Blinky’s cave, which was originally a temporary place to stay until a family came forth looking for a missing youngling. Vendel reached out to all of Trollmarket's communities, but gained no information on where Jay might've came from. Nobody stepped up, so Jay stayed and eventually an unspoken agreement came into place that it would be his permanent home. Slowly, he’d fallen into a routine with the two trolls, fitting in between Blinky, the scholarly librarian, and his partner AAARRGH, the hulking sweetheart.

There weren’t many changes to his room since he’d first woken up there. His bed had quite a deal more blankets and cushions, to keep him warm, and on the desk, a mirror had been placed, something he’d asked Blinky for around a week after Vendel had made him his guardian. He looked into it every day, sat on the stool and took in his own reflection, slowly getting used to it.

Without his memories, Jay didn’t recognise himself, and the face staring back at him felt as though it belonged to somebody else. It took awhile for him to gaze into the mirror and immediately think, _‘Yeah, that’s me.’_ Jay suspected part of the reason why he found it hard to connect with the face in the mirror was because of how he looked very little to the creatures around him. Though he was clearly a troll, he looked a lot smaller than any of the other trolls in the market, thinner and longer too. His arms and legs were gangly, not stubby and flat-footed like Blinky’s or AAARRGH’s. The left foot had an extra toe, as did his hand which had an extra finger, and his nose was made of the same stone as the rest of his body - most trolls had a slitted nose made of another mineral, as well as it being higher up on their face. 

When he asked Blinky about why he looked so different, the wise troll had suggested that perhaps one or both of Jay's parents had come from a troll clan from far away, one that varied greatly in its trollish features. So he could accept those differences.

The one thing he couldn’t get used to was that _thing._

Round, glowing, and circular, a disk was embedded in his left pectoral shining a silvery blue. It seemed to be made of some smoothed stone, engraved in thin white lines a pattern undecipherable. Even Blinky couldn’t tell what it was, and Jay was under the impression that he was rather intelligent - neither could Vendel, though he advised they don’t try to remove it. Its light pulsed like a drum, going faster when he was out of breath, and slower when he was laid down and ready to fall asleep.

With a sigh, Jay leaned on his stool to grab the shirt hanging off the edge of his bed, catching sight of his horns in the mirror. He had been informed that almost all trolls had horns, sometimes even more than two, so he was quite confused about why it felt so _wrong_ to have them. The weight had been eerie, off balancing and distracting at first, but eventually he had got used to them, and by this point, he barely remembered they were there, unless he spied them in his reflection, or ran a hand over one absentmindedly.

Woven and soft, he slipped the light grey shirt over his body, lacing up the drawstring over his chest so that the gleaming stone was not visible. The fabric fell loosely over his arms, and he revelled in the way it covered him up, like a protective layer from all the eyes that followed him when he left the cave. On the few outings Blinky and AAARRGH had taken him on through the market, every citizen had not been subtle about their interest, both because of the mystery of where he came from, and the stone in his chest. Being an introverted troll Jay had not felt comfortable with this attention, and limited his time outside of the cave. AAARRGH had noticed his reluctance to leave their home, and told him the interest would pass in time, though Jay was not convinced.

Before he left his room, he blew out the candle on his desk, and twisted a little knob on the side of his orange glowstone to dim it down. His bare feet slapped down on the cold, smooth floor, unbothered by its chill. 

He pulled back the curtain in his doorway, and entered the library (/eating area/main room). It was more of a communal space, somewhere for them to talk and have mellow conversations, or eat a meal AAARRGH prepared. It was almost rounded, and quite spacious, the ceiling high above glowing with multi colored gemstones. From floor to roof, bookshelves surrounded him, stuffed full of old pages Blinky had collected over the centuries. The books came in a range of different colours and sizes, some miniscule and covered in a bright leather, others wide and tall, bound by hand-stitched string through the spine. A stone slab of a rectangle, propped up on legs was placed in the middle, a huge table more than big enough to serve the three of them. On either side was a wooden and metal bench, much more comfortable than it appeared.

Bowls of steaming food were set up, one in front of Blinky, who was reading a book at the table, one next to his - presumably for AAARRGH - and another opposite, for Jay.

The six-eyed troll was so engrossed in his story, he didn’t even notice Jay had sat down until he cleared his throat.

“Oh, by Gorgus!” He exclaimed, dropping his book on the table, almost letting it fall into his bowl. “Don’t sneak up on me like that, Jay!”

He awkwardly smiled. “Sorry,”

Blinky hummed in amusement. “It’s okay, my boy, don’t worry. I’m just losing a bit of my hearing with age, I suppose.”

From behind a wide curtain leading to the kitchen, opposite from the entrance to Jim’s room, AAARRGH’s voice rumbled through. “Blinky not _old_ ,” He protested, before pushing through the fabric and walking in, cutlery gripped by a huge grey fist.

Lips pulling upwards in the corners, Blinky pushed his book aside, so it was out of the way. A faint purple blush tinted his cheeks, and he smirked. “I suppose I’m not _that_ old then,” He noted amiably.

(The first time Jay had entered the kitchen, being led on a tour of their dwelling, he’d felt a strange sense of ease, as if one of his forgotten memories were telling him, ‘ _This. This is safe_.’)

AAARRGH smiled at Jay, leant down to pat him on the head, and then sat down next to his husband on the sturdy bench. The larger troll took an exaggerated sniff of the air, savouring the scents of his own cooking and then sighing in contentment. It was a combination of rice-like grains, in mottled yellows and browns, submerged by a blue-green broth. Amongst the liquid floated chopped up herbs, tiny pieces of leaves giving out flavour. Jay slurped it slowly, breathing on each spoonful of it to cool it down. As always with AAARRGH’s cooking, it was delicious. It slipped over his tongue smoothly, dripping into his stomach and filling it with warmth. As he ate his breakfast, he zoned out, only dimly aware of his guardians’ conversation.

_“Blinky, since you can’t find my family, what’ll happen to me?” Jay asked, unprompted in the middle of dinner. A fortnight had passed, and still no one had claimed to be missing a blue-skinned youngling. His ears flicked downwards and he stared at the table, not wanting to see the pity in their eyes._

_“We’ll be your guardians, of course!” Blinky told him with a smile, as if this was obvious. Next to him, AAARRGH nodded in agreement._

_“Guardians?” Jay lifted up his head._

_“Jay has no parents, so AAARRGH and Blinky surr-oh-gate.” AAARRGH piped up, resting a hand on the shoulder of Blinky and staring down at him lovingly._

_“You’ve already settled into the spare room, and we find you perfectly agreeable, so I see no reason why we wouldn’t take you in should you have nowhere else to go.” Blinky whispered at Jay from behind his hand, “Not that I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to stay someplace else - AAARRGH’s snoring is loud enough to wake the dead!”_

_Hearing this, AAARRGH snorted, but didn’t dignify it with a response._

**“Jay?” Blinky asked in a calm voice, noticing how the boy’s eyes were unfocused.** “Did you just hear what I just said?”

“What?” His head shot up, focusing on the conversation in front of him. “S-sorry, no,” He dropped his spoon back into the bowl, swallowing a slurp.

“Well, AAARRGH and I were just saying that we were going to go scavenging on the surface for some supplies - nothing more than a bit of scrap metal, though the views up above are quite nice.”

“Jay come with us?” AAARRGH asked, looking at him with huge round eyes like saucers.

The only memory he had of the surface was drowning in a pond, and even though Blinky had explained there were quite a few good or great things up there, he was still hesitant. “H-how long will we be up there for?”

Blinky was quick to assure him. “Only an hour or so - there is a human dumping ground not far from the market which we are familiar with. But of course, if you want you could always stay home, and we’ll bring you something back?” He offered him genuinely, seeing the hesitant look in Jay's blue eyes.

For the entire time he’d been in Trollmarket, he’d never been alone, always having either AAARRGH or Blinky within the cave, or walking by his side around the streets. He wasn’t sure he was ready to be left alone, even if the alternative was the world up above. Maybe it would even be nice to escape the bustle and chaotic market.

Jay shook his head, long hair _thwipping_ about. ”No, I’ll come with you guys,” He said, determined.

Blinky smiled in reply and clapped the upper set of his hands together. “Splendid! I believe you’ll have quite an enjoyable time, my boy!” He laughed short and sharp, with a maniacal sound, though Jay wasn’t worried - he’d learnt that his guardian’s craziness was rather common, and nothing to be concerned about.

\-----------------

Jay didn't know why he felt anxious about coming to the surface - it was so much bigger, wider, emptier, quieter than Trollmarket, a woodland bubble of serenity cast in moonlight. “ _Woah_ , it’s so chilly up here!” He exclaimed, wind blowing through his hair as he perched at the edge of an overhang, the ground below a good two storeys or so downwards. Once they’d gotten a fair distance from Trollmarket, and Jay had realised the forest they walked through was almost entirely empty apart from the trees, he’d found that he actually quite liked it.

“ _Chilly?_ ” AAARRGH asked Blinky, brows furrowed in confusion.

His husband was quick to give him a definition, in a quiet voice. “It means cool, or breezy.”

Green, mossy hair falling from his chin fluttered in the air as he nodded in understanding. Mentally, he added the word onto his ever-growing list of English vocabulary. Most trolls spoke both Trollish and English, even using the languages interchangeably, though AAARRGH found it much harder to pick up on. But Jay seemed to prefer English, so he tried his best.

Though it was in the middle of the night, the moon gazing down from directly above, there was still enough lingering illumination to let them see, not to mention the troll advancement of seeing in the dark. Between the toes of his bare feet, Jay felt the rustling of soft grass, wet and dripping with dew that dribbled down his stone. The three of them were settled in a clearing, surrounded by twisting, gnarly trees, and a few rocks, one of which erected from the ground in a spike, nearly the size of AAARRGH. Below the edge, were the tops of trees, though almost all of them were nothing more than sticks of wood, bare without their leaves. A few stragglers, yellow, crumpled leaves that didn’t want to let go hung on to the branches, whipping in the wind defiantly.

“Where even are we?” Jay queried, staring up at an exuberant grey cloud pushing across the sky. It swished over the moon, covering a segment of her silver body breifly.

Blinky puffed out his chest, prepared and excited to impart some knowledge upon his charge. “We are in the Arcadia Oaks Forest, Jay. A name given by its human inhabitants that live in a surrounding village nearby.” He pointed outwards, over the treetops and towards a multitude of moving and flashing lights. “See all those lights beyond the trees? They’re the same ones we saw when we left the canal.”

He nodded. That canal had given him a shiver through his bones, as if he recognised it, though he chalked that up to his initial nerves of leaving Trollmarket. Its rigid structure and light grey tones had loomed over him, mocking

“Well, those lights are created by an intriguing human discovery called _electricity_ \- maybe someday I’ll teach you some about it, it’s really quite fascinating.” Blinky nudged him gently, smiling.

_Electricity._..It somewhat rang a bell. “It has a current, right? And charges?” Slipped out, without even thinking about it.

Blinky looked flabbergasted, slack-jawed. “ _I-Well-_ yes, I suppose, but how do _you_ know that, Jay?”

The youngling shrugged. It had just come to him, something whispering the answer in the back of his head. “I, uh, I don’t remember - sorry.” He ran a hand over one of his horns, feeling the ridges. It was a nervous tic he had developed, something to ground him.

AAARRGH hummed in amusement from behind them, crouching down to sniff the ground. “Jay clever...Like Blinky.” Delicately, with his massive fingers, he plucked a daisy from the ground, and popped it in a pouch in his hand.

Blinky chortled thoughtfully, and patted Jay on the shoulder softly. “Don’t worry if you cannot remember - I’m sure your memories will return in time.” Blinky's thumb felt rough and heavy, rubbing Jay's arm comfortingly.

Jay didn’t share the same sentiment. Sure, he knew what certain things meant (Like the electricity) without knowing how he learnt them in the first place, but as for solid memories or imagery, there was nothing. A blank wall slowly filling with memories of his short time with AAARRGH and Blinky. And occasionally, the old grumpy troll named Vendel that would turn up unannounced to check on Jay with a look of vague displeasure and annoyance. 

He wasn’t even sure he wanted any memories back - what if the person he used to be was completely different?

Jay rubbed his eyes. “I’m kind of tired - can we just sit here for a bit?” His legs were beginning to ache after their hike, not as strong as the other trolls, probably due to how skinny and twig-like they were.

Blinky seemed to have a silent conversation with his husband, communicating solely with eyes before he nodded at him and gestured at a nearby rock. “For a little while, I suppose we can spare the time.” He sat down on the flattish rock, and patted the area next to him for Jay to sit down.

It was cool and slightly damp, though that didn’t bother him.

With a _thump,_ AAARRGH plopped himself onto the grass, huddling next to them on his behind.

“What’re humans like?” Jay asked unprompted, curious about the creatures he’d heard mentioned but never actually seen with his own eyes.

“Oh, I haven’t the foggiest.” Blinky answered with a sigh. Jay turned to face him, with a confused expression. “Unfortunately, we can only watch their kind from afar, lest we cause a conflict - meetings between Men and Trollkind have never gone well before, I’m afraid.”

Jay listened, feeling a pang of sadness, and a sense of deja vu, as if he’d been there before. All those lights, glittering like stars above in the sky, called to him, trying to remind him of something by tugging on a memory. He had flashes of thoughts, something about another boy, though before he could focus on them they were gone again.

\------------ 

Toby always hated his History lessons.

Well, when Jim was around, they were actually quite nice, a period where they could chill and have a chat whilst learning the falls and triumphs of Mankind.

But now?

Now it was just a period of forty minutes where Toby tried desperately to avoid conversation with Mr Strickler, not even making eye contact with the man. Because they’d inevitably end up talking about Jim, or something that reminded them both of Jim, and then they would both go home feeling sad and depressed.

It took every ounce of his concentration to stop himself from running out of the classroom - _nay_ , the school- when Mr Strickler politely requested that he stay behind once the lesson had ended.

The older man sat down on the desk in front of Toby, twiddling his fountain pen in his long, slender fingers. A sad smile sat upon his face, and when Toby met his eyes for the first time in what was probably _months,_ he noticed just how deeply the lines around his irises were etched.

(Of course, Toby wasn’t the only one rocked by Jim’s dissapearence.)

In a soft and approachable voice, Mr Strickler talked to him, as if Toby was a scared little kid. “Toby, Barbara and I have been rather worried about you lately - when I see you in school you always look as though you’re on the verge of fainting.” He said, a little blunt.

Toby awkwardly nodded, lips pursed together.

“I know that only a month ago it was the anniversary of-of Jim’s disappearance-” His voice cracked and went stiff at the mention of his stepson’s name, and he took in a deep inhale of breath “-but it’s not healthy for you to shut yourself off from everybody else like this.”

“I-I know.” And he did. He knew that he would only become lonelier if he never made friends with anybody else, but for so long it had just been Toby and Jim, the dynamic duo. They were all the other needed, the one person who could comfort them, and make them laugh, and understand them more than they understood themself. 

“That’s why I want you to come over to have dinner sometime,”

“What?” Toby asked loudly, without meaning to.

Mr Strickler sighed. “I know you’ve been avoiding us, Toby, but you need to know that we are here for you.” He smiled slightly, the edges of his lips quirking upwards. “Besides, Wally hasn’t seen you in ages and he misses you,”

“But-”

Strickler silenced him by raising a finger. “No buts this time - you’re coming over.” He crossed his arms across his chest. “Christmas just isn’t the same without you and your Nana, and don’t worry, I’ve checked with her and she agrees it would be a good idea as well.”

Toby mentally cursed, though he wasn’t really angry with his Grandma _. Damn Nana and her meddling._

His teacher placed a comforting hand on his shoulder gently. “Don’t lose yourself in your grief, Tobias.”

\-----------------

Glowing gold, a metal stylus with a crooked gem attached to the end was pressed into Jay’s hand, a few days after their scavenging trip. It gleamed under the light, heavy and solid.

“What’s this?” He asked, turning it over and inspecting it, lounged on a cushion on the floor of the library.

Blinky smiled proudly. “ _That_ , is a horngazel. It is what allows us to draw the entrance and exit connecting Trollmarket to the Human world above.”

Jay frowned, haired brows coming together. Looking up at Blinky, who was standing above him, he let his three-fingered hand hold it loosely in his lap. “Why are you giving one to me?”

His guardian sat down at the bench next to the table, and picked up a mug filled by a steaming tea. “Well, you are around the age at which a youngling would usually be trusted to travel to the surface by themself, and the two of us noticed how much you enjoyed that trip into the forest - we only go up there once a month or so, but if you wish to do a little exploration by your lonesome, then you may.” Blinky began drinking the tea, soft hints of daisy flowers wafting into the air.

They were going to let him go to the surface? By himself? “Really? Thank you, that’s so cool-”

“But,” Blinky started, finger raised in the air and a stern expression on his face. “You _must_ obey the rules we set out for you, understand?”

Jay nodded, already up and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Firstly, do not, under _any_ circumstance, interact with a human.”

“Uhuh, got it.” He told them hastily, fiddling with the horngazel.

Blinky held up two fingers. “Secondly, you must stay within the forest and the canal - no entering Arcadia, lest a human sees you and you reveal Trollking to the world.”

Jay gulped. That seemed like a pretty big responsibility.

AAARRGH said the last rule as he entered the room, before Blinky could, earnestly looking Jay in the eye. “Be back before sun.” He said in a serious rumble, green eyes unquestionably hard.

Blinky nodded. “Yes, quite - do you remember all that, Jay?”

He smiled softly. “Yeah - three rules to the surface, right?”

He could follow those. Easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another reminder, since it's just important u know this, Strickler is NOT a changeling.
> 
> AAARRGH and Blinky are so sweet honestly I love writing them so much!!!
> 
> Also I swear Toby and Jim are gonna meet soon, I just gotta, you know, set the scene.
> 
> Probably wont be an update for a while, cause of exams, but I promise I am NOT abandoning this story if you dont see a new chapter for ages.
> 
> Please, for the love of all things holy, LEAVE A COMMENT!!! Or at least kudos  
> Don't be afraid to ask me questions - I love answering them!
> 
> -thanks bros


	3. cats are friends not food.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toby and JIm finally meet...not in the best of circumstances.

“So, Dumbzalski,” Steve leered at him, towering above Toby and resting his elbow on his locker door so that he couldn’t open it. The two boys were almost alone in the schoolyard, one of many cons of being let out late from class meaning that only a few students milled about. “You got one of your Nana’s pies for me?” His voice was nasally and like a drawn out squeal, a long whine for attention. It was the same question he asked Toby almost every Friday after school.

Toby rolled his eyes, ducking his head so their resident school bully wouldn’t see. Maybe if he ignored Steve, he’d just go away?

It was a naive hope - one large, thick hand latched onto his shoulder, grabbing him and digging nails through his shirt to the flesh underneath. A hysterical laugh echoed around, bouncing off the metal doors of the lockers. “Oh, so you think you can ignore me, _ huh _ , Tubby?”

_ ‘Tubby’,  _ Toby thought with distaste.  _ How original, Steve. _

Piggish brown eyes were inches away from his own, the jock's face lowered so that there was no way Toby could avoid looking him in the eye. Say what you like about Steve’s astoundingly low intellect, the guy knew how to turn on the intimidation factor when he wanted.

Shoving away his hand, Toby began to stalk off, realising that he’d just have to leave his textbooks in his locker over the weekend. With a sigh, he walked across the concrete bottom of the schoolyard, listening as Steve’s sniggers still audibly rang out behind him. None of his croons - or henchmen, if you preferred - were about, yet Steve still spoke aloud as if expecting a chorus of laughs and applause to sound around him in congratulations.

“Don’t walk away, Tubby!” He called out, mockingly, the edge of a laugh tinging his voice as he followed the shorter boy, casually strolling on long legs. Toby didn’t even turn around, just kept on walking and ignoring his taunts, like Nana told him to. Her advice had always been pretty sound, anyhow. Besides, his bike was only a few metres away now, so if he could get to it and speed away before Steve caught up then it would be fine - It was pretty much a routine he was familiar with, being taunted and followed by bullies after school.

Toby was unchaining his bike when Steve skipped down the steps outside the school to join him, another leer on the tip of his oddly large and sloppy tongue. As soon as his icy voice came pouring out in a fake pitying tone, lip curled in a mock impersonation of sadness, Toby knew, _ he knew _ , that Steve was going to start talking about Jim. His skin stretched over knuckles angrily, creating white bumps of his bones as short fingers unlocked what connected his bike to the metal bar.

Big, tanned hands were thrown up in the air dramatically.  _ “C’mon _ , man, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay, since you miss your _ boyfr- _ ”

“Cut it  _ out _ , Steve!” Some girl shouted from behind him, in a rough and boisterous, yet somewhat high-pitched voice. She seemingly appeared out of nowhere, or maybe she'd been there the whole time. Toby was struck out of his anger at Steve by the surprise of this short girl shoving the guy almost an entire foot taller than her away, pink painted lips pulled into a snarl on her small face.

She was vaguely recognisable, some dim bell ringing in the back of Toby’s mind. Her pink hoodie, printed with a recurring motif of a purple skull stood out the most, though the white streak flowing through her hair was also hard to miss. It was almost ethereal, as if the colour had been entirely leeched out and siphoned off. Ripped fishnet stockings covered her skinny legs, and he had to wonder how she wasn’t shivering to death in the cold.

Steve’s face went beet red, and in order to stop himself from stumbling on the ground, he saved his fall by leaning against the bike rails in a very non-natural pose, awkwardly smiling at the newcomer and showing off those pearly whites.

Toby had seen others swoon at the sight of his charming smirk, though this girl seemed unaffected, crossing her arms over her chest and sighing in disappointment. One of her eyebrows cocked upwards condescendingly

“Claire!” He exclaimed, in a pleasant and welcoming voice, now completely ignoring Toby in favour of the pretty girl. “What’re you doing here?”

She jerked a thumb towards the school building, which was painted grey by the fading light and growing shadows. “I go to school here.” Claire told him in a biting sarcastic comment, thick eyebrows raising up her forehead in frustration. It was quite obvious she was immunised toSteve's attempts at charm. “Can’t you go more than a  _ day _ without picking on some poor guy?”

Toby almost objected to her description o _f ‘poor guy’_ , though it was accurate.

Steve laughed nervously, in a chortle that sent his spit spraying from his mouth. “I’m not  _ ‘picking on’ _ Dumbza- I mean, _ Toby _ . We were just having a little chat!”

She rolled her eyes, unimpressed. “ _Ugh._ Can’t you just come to rehearsals? Ms Janeth sent me to look for you so just get a move on, okay?” Crossing her arms over her chest, she stared him down, the beginnings of a drizzle raining down on their heads. Surprisingly, Steve's only response was a huff of annoyance at her interruption to his entertainment, not a punch to the face.

Toby’s eyes widened in shock. If  _ he _ had spoken to Steve like that, he’d end up in A&E - Evidently he had a chivalry code of not fighting pretty girls, because he didn’t try to talk back to her.

“Fine.” He said in an easy going voice, though out of Claire’s view he pulled a face at Toby before going back inside the school. “See ya around, Toby.” Steve called out over his shoulder, turning round a concrete corner and entering the schoolyard lined by lockers. Footsteps echoed away over the growing wind

Once he was out of sight, she spun towards Toby, an annoyed expression instantly morphing into a sweet smile. Brown and white strands of hair flicked her face, tousled by the breeze, though she didn’t seem bothered. Eyes, lined by a silvery powder, looked at him warmly, even with a hint of pity.

Toby was getting really, really tired of pity. People had pitied him all his life because he was the boy with no parents, but now he was the boy with no parents _ and _ the boy who lost his only friend.

“Thanks, “ He told her in a tired voice, wanting nothing else but to speed away home before the light drops of rain turned into a full on downpour of liquid daggers. Already he could feel the chilly water seeping through his sweater vest.

“Anytime, Toby.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the school building. “Well, I better get back to rehearsals, lest I face Janeth’s wrath.” Claire joked, already walking away, spindly legs loping, toes barely gracing the ground, as if they stepped on the air just above it.

_ What a weird lady, _ he thought to himself, more in an admiring opinion of her quirkiness than a criticism of it.

Wet hair flopped onto his forehead, sticking to the clammy skin.  _ Nana had told him to bring a raincoat so why didn’t he? _

The sky darkened, light blues becoming shadowy navy, grey around the borders of weighted clouds. Trees outside the school whipped and wrestled with the wind, their leaves painfully ripped away by the winter. The metal frame of the bike was cool and biting on his bare hands as he lifted it from the rack, and then sped away from the horrid school building down a rain-slicked road.

\--------------------

“Toby-Pie!”

Toby was awoken from his nap on his desk by his Nana calling his name from downstairs. A maths worksheet was being used as his pillow, stained by the drool that had leaked out his mouth whilst he dozed. Oddly, his pencil was still gripped in his hand, clumsily laid out, his arm flopped over a pencil case. Blearily, he glimpsed the clock out of the corner of his eye, and groaned in disspointment.

**10:48 PM**

_ Shit. _ He’d slept through at least an hour and a half of his homework time. With a sigh, Toby realised he’d just have to do it tomorrow, at the weekend.

Wiping a hand down his face to wake himself up, he pushed himself out of his chair on flimsy legs and stumbled to the door. Blinking, the mistiness of his vision cleared away, and he slid his hand along the banister of the stairs.

“Just coming, Nana!” He shouted back to her, loud enough so her impaired ears would still hear the words clearly enough. Quickening up the pace, he jogged to the kitchen, where she was huddled next at the table, swamped in a knitted jumper at least twice the old lady’s actual size.

Their kitchen was quite small and cramped, designed as if it was for a family in the eighties. Wooden cabinets lined the walls in an orange-brown tone, images of flowers carved into the smooth surfaces. Tiled a serene blue, the floor was home to a pair of Toby’s trainers and a collection of cat bowls lined up at the side.

Her face was wrinkled and sagged, though still preserving her round structure and tall cheekbones. Behind her circular glasses, which were almost completely fogged by the steam of her teacup, small eyes squinted at her grandson, lined by an uncountable amount of laugh lines. With a weak and crooked finger, she pointed at the door to their back garden, her other hand softly stroking the purring tabby cradled in her lap. Through its glass panes was a painting of blacks and greys, shadowy movements cast by trees, cackles and scratches from wild rodents that reverberated through the cold air.

Her voice was silky yet croaky at the same time, weathered by age. Nana smiled at him sweetly“I know it’s late dear, but Mr Meow-Meow hasn’t come back in for his dinner yet, and I’m getting quite worried. “ She pushed her glasses further up her tiny nose jauntily, just before they slipped off. “I don’t think my legs could handle going outside right now, so do you think you could just pop outside and call out his name?”

At this rate, Toby was never going to get his homework done.

But he smiled at her and started to put on his shoes. “Yeah, sure Nana. Don’t worry, he’s probably doing alright.” Chances were, the lazy fluffball was mauling some poor mouse to shreds, although if he didn't come back home then Nana would be up all night worrying.

Nana hummed in agreement, cheeks going rosy red in tint. “Thanks Dearie, I’ll make you a nice hot cocoa for when you come back!”

Toby’s stomach rumbled in appreciation, and his Nana chuckled, lightly shooing the cat from her lap. Standing up, hairs fell off her skirt, fluttering to the floor. “Don’t stay out too long, mind you,” She warned him, shuffling towards the fridge to get the milk.

Laces finally tied up, he opened up the door and was shocked by the gust of cold air in his face.“I’ll be back before you know it!” He told her, though didn’t get a reply before he shut the door behind himself to keep the cold out. Nana probably hadn’t heard him over the sounds of her own humming, anyway.

No one was really about in the area, at this time of night. Not only were there very few houses on their street, but the street itself was nestled next to the Arcadia forest, on the edge of town. Their garden was small and square, surrounded by a wall of tall wooden fence he couldn’t see over. In the corner, his Nana had sectioned off a little area with a line of bricks, where she planted her flowers each year, though in the winter it was just a patch of dirt and ivy, which never died down. The evergreen plant climbed all over, spindly extensions of vine crawling on the fence and wrapping around the wooden posts.

Toby puffed out a hot breath, which quickly turned into grey mist in the cool air. He wrapped his hoodie tighter to his body and withdrew his phone from the pouch to use it as a torch. Shining it around the garden, there was no sign of the elusive cat, or any evidence it had been there recently.

_ Please, please don’t say I’m going to have to look in the creepy forest… _ Toby begged mentally, to the Universe in general.

“Uhh, Mr meow-meow?” He called out, knowing full well that it never responded to its name unless Nana said it. “Are you out here?”

The fluorescent light of the torch was shone through the metal gate at the end of the garden, casting shadows of the trees beyond it. From the darkness, no reply came, except the creaking of living wood.

With a gulp and a defeated sigh, Toby flicked the latch open and entered the forest, eyes peeled as he swept the light about. Thankfully, there was a path to follow, which he knew eventually connected to the same path he and Jim used to take to school, as a shortcut. The reminder of his best friend, as always, left a sudden pang of sadness inside him, which he pressed down and ignored.

_ Sad thoughts are for later, Tobes. Just focus on the cat. _

He called out for the chubby little critter, though even when his voice turned hoarse he got no miaow back in reply. “Mr Meow-Meow? C’mon little dude, Nana misses you!” He shouted out, in no particular direction, wanting nothing but to turn around and go back home for the hot cocoa waiting there.

Ignoring how each tree seemed to lean inwards, the darkened air around him almost crushing, he went onwards, looking for the chubby ball of black fluff until he stopped dead in his tracks at a voice from the shadows ahead.

“Is-is this your cat?” A rough, but young voice asked, sounding as though it belonged to a guy his age. It was a little familiar, probably belonging to someone he saw at school. He breathed out a sigh of relief, realising it wasn’t a murderer, but someone who had presumably found the address on his collar and was walking over to return him.

Squinting, Toby could now see the silhouette of a tall person amongst the trees, a little too far away for the light of the phone to make him clear. With a sigh of relief, he spotted a furred bundle in the guy's arms, reflective eyes shining a pearly green. The cat was held out at arm's length underneath his armpits, which though the position was undoubtedly uncomfortable, Mr Meow-Meow looked perfectly fine.

Bit weird, how the boy wasn’t stepping forwards to get closer, but Toby didn’t complain as the feline was lowered to the ground and trotted over to its owner. Purring, he rubbed up against his legs and Toby couldn’t stop himself from smiling, giving him a little stroke along the ridge of his back.

“Yeah, he’s mine.” He laughed nervously and scooped the critter into his arms. “Sorry, he just wanders off a bit too far sometimes, you know? But thanks for finding him.”

The stranger stuttered a bit, searching for the right words and nervously tapping his foot on the ground, crunching the leaves. “Yes, I-I found him, because…” He seemed to pause, as if thinking up an excuse. “ _ Because _ I was just on a walk, through the forest...as people do.” Awkwardly, he leaned against a tree, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to go on a casual stroll through a creepy forest at night in winter.

Toby still couldn’t see his face, since he was too far away, but the way he was talking was...strange, like he had to think through everything before saying it aloud. Each of his movements were jumpy and jaunted.  _ Was he okay? _

Taking a step forward suddenly, he tilted the torch upwards at the guy’s face, which he obviously hadn’t been expecting, since he froze up in what seemed to be fear as the beam fell upon his features.

Toby didn’t even scream. He did stop breathing though, for a good second.

The person standing before him was not even _ remotely _ human.

Blue skin encompassed a thin and looming stature, matching reflective cobalt eyes similar to how the cat’s eyes had reflected the light just moments previously. An old fashioned grey shirt, the type you see in historical movies or Lord of The Ring-esque fantasy worlds hung loosely from his shoulders, and bunched at his elbows. Black cat hairs were still attached to it, evidence of holding a furry critter. Or maybe the hairs were from his  _ own  _ scruff, a messy mass of locks that flicked out from behind -  _ were those horns? _

The creature gasped, eyes going wide in surprise and whole body stuck in place as Toby’s jaw dropped in fear. His phone slipped from his hand and cracked upon impact with the ground, light disappearing as the teenager was plunged into near petch-black darkness. He didn’t waste any time, and still holding a yowling cat, sprinted as fast as he could away, back towards his house. Not bothering to check if they were being followed, his feet slipped sloshed around the mud, almost falling over at some points unless he grabbed onto a nearby branch to right himself.

Toby began to regret every time he’d dismissed Eli’s theories of the supernatural, and breathing raggedly, put all of his energy towards getting home to safety.

  
  


**A little while earlier,**

Jay followed the human path in the forest, unsure of where it would lead him. Bare feet fell upon a crisp carpet of brown, yellow, and golden leaves, each of them slowly deteriorating without a tree to sustain them. Even though it was dark, he could see the outline of all the plants well enough, even the details of bark in the trees, and to some extent, the colour of the foliage surrounding him.

He didn’t know why he was sticking to the path, given that he found it more enjoyable to climb and swing from tree to tree, but straying from it would just seem... _wrong_. He’d stay on it for just a little longer, so he could figure out where it led to. Beneath his bare feet, he could feel prints embedded in mud, evidence of human boots and tyre tracks, probably from a bike.

His first time on the surface without supervision, without Blinky and AAARRGH’s guiding presence and stony bulk beside him. It was nicely isolated, and quiet, whilst at the same time a little nerve-wracking.

In the forest, there were so many sounds, so many hisses, scratches and clawing, yelps and screeches, screams and yowls, that it was hard to pinpoint exactly which sound came from where. Not that he was concerned, though - Jay knew it was just woodland critters, doing their nightly rounds in order to survive another day. Each snapping twig or creak of a branch sent his ears flicking in another direction, and it was almost fun to feel his muscles twitch below the stony skin. At the beginning, those movements had felt wrong and alien, but now he’d feel uncomfortable without the directional hearing he’d gotten used to.

On his left, somewhere beyond the bushes, came a loud rustle, and when he stopped, taking a deep breath of the air, an animal’s scent from nearby was inhaled.  _ What was that smell? _ Jay took another sniff of the air, closed his eyes to focus, and filtered the scents of the forest until he caught some hint of a familiar one. Silky, supple, thick and misty, it stuck in the back of his nostrils like bait for a fish.

_ Cat. _

His stomach rumbled earnestly, remembering how great that feline stew AAARRGH made was. Maybe he could catch it, bring it back home, so that they wouldn’t have to buy one from the market? Cats were quite expensive, he’d learnt whist on a food run, due to their high demand. They smelt a little different, when they were alive compared to when they were dead, but he could still recognise it, growing stronger as he closed in on it, the furry thing curled up below a bush and softly breathing.

Black fur coated him, right from the ears to tail, thick and long so that it splayed down his body like a waterfall of fine strands. A tiny ribcage pulsed up and down, up and down, accompanied by happy purr-like snores. Blearily, green eyes opened, staring at Jay lazily as if the troll was nothing out of the ordinary, and gave a cute little sneeze before getting up and stretching. Yawning, he could see the cat’s tiny little fangs, almost pathetically thin and miniscule when compared to the ones on a troll.

He chuckled to himself, and crouched down on the ground in front of the pet, who trotted over to him tentatively.

_ Who was Jay kidding? _ He couldn’t take this little guy to _Trollmarket_ to get made into cat stew!

A dainty pink nose sniffed his bare feet, coming to the conclusion that Jay was  _ friend _ . Against his limp blue hand that rested on his knee, the cat rubbed his face, fur silky and soft on Jay’s stone. Slowly, he ran a big hand over its back, laughing at the way it squished beneath him and bent below the force as if it was made of a liquid, not a solid.

He decided, that he much preferred stroking a cat, to eating it.

“Well, aren’t you a cute little guy, huh?” He asked the chubby, furry blob, as he rolled onto his back and put his paws in the air, a clear invitation for tummy rubs. Clearly the feline had no sense of self preservation. Jay obliged, and felt the quick, swift poundings of his heart beneath the flesh, as well as his growing purr. Cats can’t smile, at least not in a way that’s recognisable, but his face was clearly one of happiness.

He was ripped from the nice moment by a voice calling out, quite a distance away. It was young, and more of a whine, as if he’d been shouting for a while, yet it seemed to make a little tingle spark in the back of Jay’s mind.

“Mr Meow-Meow? C’mon little dude, Nana misses you!” Someone shouted, and t he cat beneath his fingers stilled, going limp. Jay smirked at him and poked his flabby grey tummy playfully.

“Is that you?” He asked, and though he didn’t expect it, the cat’s eyes went downwards almost guiltily.  “I’ll take that as a yes, then.” With one hand, he reached beneath the cat, and tried to make him rise to his feet, though he stayed obstinately on the forest floor, like a floppy cushion that weighed a tonne.

“Aren’t you going to go back to them? Come on, get up - I know this probably means nothing to you, but if you don’t go back home, you might get found by another troll and _ trust me _ they can and will eat you!”  Jay tried to mimic Blinky’s lecture voice in order to put some fear in the feline, pointing a finger and pressing it in the cat’s face, but achieved nothing. A raspy pink tongue licked his finger happily, trying to groom the hairless digit, and ignored his warning.

What was he to do? He couldn’t take the cat back with him to Trollmarket - the poor thing wouldn’t last even a single minute down there! And though just minutes earlier Jay had been considering eating him, after a petting session he felt sick at the thought of ‘Mr Meow-Meow’ being gobbled up by another troll going for a scavenge on the surface.

A thought struck Jay, but Blinky’s words echoed in the back of his mind.

_ “Firstly, do not, under any circumstance, interact with a human.” _

He winced, already knowing this was going to be a bad idea, and silently apologised to his guardian. 

_ I am so, so sorry, Blinky. _

Surely, if he stayed in the shadows, out of sight, and never came into any physical contact with a human then he wasn’t _ technically  _ interacting with said human? That made sense. Definitely.

With a quiet, peeping miaow of confusion, Mr Meow-Meow was lifted into the air, rising up as Jay stood up from his crouch. Like a soft and squishy pillow, he hugged the cat to his chest, letting him dig his claws into his shirt for purchase. Round green orbs stared into his own eyes in wonder, before curling in on himself and tucking his face into Jay’s neck, his breath puffing on Jay’s collarbone.

Stroking his velvety fur, he calmly strode towards where he could hear the owner walking, almost blinded by the bright light he held in his hand. Squinting, he leaped behind a tree silently, and waited for the human to get closer.

Once he was adjusted to the onslaught of white light protruding from whatever was held in the large boy’s hand, he was able to have a look up and down at him, whilst still going unnoticed.

He was pale skinned and rounded, no sharp edges anywhere to be seen. A chubby and soft face turned from side to side, still searching for his lazy cat, with ginger locks flopping onto his forehead and flicking over his ears. Green eyes peered skeptically into the shadows, and Jay felt a weird, woozy sensation in his mind at the mere sight of this person. It was a familiar feeling, when he knew he should know something, but didn’t know why he didn’t know it. His mind trying to recall a memory he straight-up just  _ didn’t have. _

Well, it was now or never.

His heart beat out of his chest, pounding up against his ribs. _ Don’t worry, _ he reminded himself, _ He won’t see you if you stay in the shadows.  _ Stepping forwards, holding out his hands so that the snoozing cat was thrust closer to the light, he spoke nervously. 

“Is-is this your cat?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry for writing Steve as a 1 dimensional bully. If you've read my other fic, Claire the Corageous, you'll know it physically pained me to disrespect his character in this way. Alas, I need him to be a dick for plot reasons.
> 
> (Also, the reason why Mr Meow-Meow wasn't scared of Jay is because he recognised him from when he was human and used to come over to Toby's house before hee went missing.)
> 
> PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT, and ask anything u like if you enjoyed, or at least some goshdarned kudos!!! 
> 
> If you want me to continue this, please write me a comment because they are what fuels me!!! (although next chapter probably won't come out for a while cause of school)
> 
> -thanks bros


	4. don't go dumpster diving at night, kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those faithful readers waiting for an update...I have returned

To put it mildly, Toby was shaken. A good portion of his mind was in the shitting-the-pants-stage, whilst another part argued that maybe all he’d seen was some really good SFX makeup. Cause that’s plausible, right?

Right?

He really hoped so.

School was even worse than usual, due to three consecutive almost sleepless nights since his interaction with... _ whatever _ that was, and with each blink of heavy lids he felt even closer to passing out. No one asked the unpopular kid why the dark rings around his eyes rivalled the black eyeliner of the emo kids, though it was blatantly clear from the way everybody put in effort to walk around him that he looked about as crap as he felt.

Well, everyone walked around him except-

“Toby?  _ Hello, _ Earth to Toby?”

He jumped away from the hand waving in his face. “Wha-Oh, hi Claire.”

She had intercepted him in the hallway of the English block on his way out, lithe footsteps clapping along a carpeted ground to catch up with him. As always, she looked energetic and - for lack of a better word - _ loud _ , a bright pink, almost electric hoodie swamping her tiny frame. Claire must have straightened her hair recently, because instead of familiar bouncing curls, it swooped down from the top of her head and pooled in the cupped shape of her hood, the ends flicking up and scratching the base of her neck. That unforgettable white strand flicked over her forehead, travelled across her face and was then softly tucked behind her petite ear, though a mere second later it just flopped out again.

She shoved her hands in her pockets and rolled on the balls of her feet, her entire frame filled by restless energy as it usually was. “Are you doing okay, Toby? It’s just you look kinda…” Claire trailed off, though from her concerned facial expression he could guess what she meant. _ ‘You look kinda like shit’ _

He waved her off, ducking his head as if the gum and skid mark covered floor was the most enticing thing in the world. “I’m fine - just tired, is all.”

It took a moment for a response to come. “Okay,” She said, in a tone that implied she didn’t really believe him, though her face soon became parted by a sweet and toothy smile. She was certainly quite beautiful, and Toby could see why half of the school population had at least a smidge of a crush on her. “Well, I’ve been looking for you all day, cause we need a few more people to join the backstage crew - some, uh,  _ new blood, _ as Miss Janeth put it, and Eli said you’d probably be up for it,”

At some point whilst she talked she’d started walking, and Toby had fallen in step next to her, feet dragging across the ground.

Whilst she talked, her hands fluttered about the space they occupied, gesticulating randomly and without reason. “You wouldn’t have to come to _all_ the rehearsals, just a few when we need to try out different lighting or practice moving the scenery.”

“Sorry, but I don’t really know anybody except Eli, and Steve pretty much hates me, so I think I’ll pass. But thanks for asking, anyway.” Most people avoided conversation with him at all costs, so it was a nice change.

Claire snorted, undignified and seemingly unprompted. “Yeah...I really wouldn’t worry about Steve, if I were you. Trust me, he’s so busy stroking his ego up onstage he won’t even notice you’re there!”

Toby let out a little huff of laughter, echoed by her giggles. If Steve found out they had been laughing about him behind his back, he’d surely kill them. But Steve wasn’t there. It was just them and an empty high school hallway, so he kept laughing, a part of his weariness slipping away. Lessons had made him feel like using the desk as a pillow, but talking with someone, having an actual conversation woke him up a great deal.

He hadn’t showered in a few days, and as such, his ginger hair had taken on a level of greasiness he previously hadn’t unlocked. Toby noticed this when he ran his fingers through it absentmindedly, and made a mental note to take a  _ damn shower  _ that night. He smiled at her, one corner of his lips curving upwards a little on his wide face. “I guess I could think about it.”

Claire's grin was infectious, brown eyes sparkling. “Great! Let me just give you my number so you can tell me when you decide.”

“Yeah, sure,” Toby slipped his backpack off his shoulder and started to rummage through it on his knees, hand rifling between textbooks and loose pencils to find his phone. It was an old model, and he barely used it as it’s hardware couldn’t manage much else other than messaging and phoning. However, even after pressing his face forwards to give his eyes a better view, he couldn't find it.

Frowning, he searched more roughly, shocked to find it wasn’t there. _What? Where was it - the last time he used it was when he was looking for Mr me_ -

His whole body froze, and he suddenly remembered where he’d last seen it.

_ The forest. _

In his haste to get away, he’d dropped the slim object from his clammy fingers, in favour of scooping up Mr Meow-Meow and sprinting off with him.

A pit formed in Toby’s stomach at the reminder of absolute fear he’d felt at that moment, and the words Claire softly spoke towards him became incomprehensible, like he was underwater.

Her hand gripped onto his shoulder like a clamp, and he was shocked back into awareness, green eyes flicking up to meet her dark reddish ones. Light brown skin creased as her eyebrows furrowed. “Toby, you okay? You kinda...spaced out for a sec.”

Toby reminded himself to act normal, and shakily got to his feet, flashing a forced smile at her.

“Sorry, I’ve lost my phone, or-or misplaced it, I think.” Toby collected up his things from the floor, hastily walking (Stumbling, really) towards the exit to the lockers, and after a long bike ride, home.

She frowned, looking a bit confused at his sudden change in mood, shoulders slumping downwards. “Oh, okay. Well-”

“I just realised I’ll be late if I don’t go home now, so, uh, I should really leave,” Fumbling, his hand found the door handle, sweaty fingers pushing it open so that a breath of frosty air swam over him. “Thanks for asking me about the backstage thing though, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Without giving her the chance to say anything, he let the door shut, and ran off towards his bike at the racks. Thankfully, Claire didn’t follow him.

\------------

Despite his large and engulfing size, Jay had come to realise that AAARRGH was a very gentle troll. Sweet, kind, and pretty great at the whole giant-with-a-heart-of-gold thing he had going on. With everything he did, there was a simplicity to it, a serenity of sorts. This applied to his cooking technique, as well.

Each slice downwards of the blade into a soft purple buklabar (A long, mushroom-like vegetable) was soft and slow, getting the job done in a precise manner. Their kitchen was not a large one, and it was a miracle that AAARRGH could even maneuver around without knocking anything over.

Once the vegetable was nothing more than a pile of paper-thin slices, he passed the chopping board to Jay, who then emptied it into a large, bronze-coloured pot. Like lily pads, the slices floated, bobbing up and down in a green liquid. There were other things in there as well, like diced leaves and spices, along with strips of pink meat, wafting a smell which Jay tried hard not to feel guilty about. After meeting that cat in the forest a few nights earlier he felt a little  _ off _ about eating a member of its species, but… he really didn’t want to insult AAARRGH’s cooking.

With a hum, AAARRGH gestured for Jay to hand him the pot with a bit of a struggle due to its weight, and then used his huge grey hands to place it atop of the glowing red heating stone. Like fire, solidified, it was on top of the stone counter, and glowed flickering warm colours. Even from a few feet away Jay could feel its heat, and denied himself the impulse to reach out and touch it.

There was a nice...stillness to cooking, he found. Whether it was simply by himself or alongside AAARRGH, it was something that came naturally to him. 

(Cooking with Blinky, however, was the most stressful experience Jay ever had. The troll had four arms and yet he could not figure out how to cook a simple meal with any of them. In the end, there had been food on the ceiling, the walls, the floor, the utensils, and the scent of burnt meat hung around the cave for a whole night.)

“Jay alright?” AAARRGH asked softly, pushing aside the curtain of the doorway so that the two of them could step into the library and sit down.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

He didn’t respond to that, instead silently gazing at Jay with those large green eyes in a way that conveyed for him to go on. 

He fiddled with the strings of his shirt, getting a peek at the glowing stone in his chest through the fabric. “I’m a little tired, I guess. When I went up to the surface a few nights ago, I saw something…” Jay couldn’t exactly tell him that he was seen by a human, lest he face the wrath of an angry four-armed troll, so he looked around the room whilst thinking what to say. “ _-_ Uh _, weird._ ”

“Weird?”

A jumble of words came out of Jay’s mouth. “A-a cat. I saw a cat- which was really weird,  _ because, _ I’ve, uh, only ever seen them dead?” He wasn’t lying, not really, just avoiding the whole truth. An  _ omission of truth, _ as Blinky would call it.

AAARRGH huffed in amusement, and shook his head, as if disregarding Jay’s antics. “Mmm...cats tasty.” There was a clutter of books, pages and notebooks his husband had left scattered across the table, and with a fond sigh, he began to organise it.

AAARRGH noticed the way Jay sobered at his comment, and looked for a way to change the topic of conversation - alas, conversing had never been his strongpoint, but there  _ was _ something he needed to bring up. “Draal visiting soon - Blinky’s nephew.”

Jay’s eyes widened. “Blinky has a nephew?”

“Sort-of nephew.” He tilted his hand in a so-so gesture, the warm golden light of the library rolling over grey stone. “Good warrior, kind.”

Jay nodded. “Oh, that’s uh, that’s pretty cool, I guess.” The young troll scratched the base of one horn idly, wondering why Blinky had never mentioned this ‘Draal’ before. He probably just hadn’t come up in conversation before, but Jay _had_ been curious about Blinky and AAARRGH’s families for a while now - neither of them had mentioned a single relative, except for that one time when Blinky insulted his brother’s handwriting in a book, spewing the first Trollish curse word Jay had heard in his life.

AAARRGH smiled gently, and pointed at him. ”You and Draal spend time together, will be good, make friends.”

“What? I already have friends!” Jay laughed nervously, although in all honesty he hadn’t interacted much with anyone other than Blinky, AAARRGH, and on occasion, Vendel.

“Cat’s don’t count.” AAARRGH pointed out with mirth, head tilting to the side. He stacked two small books of Blinky's on top of each other, making them line up precisely.

Jay rolled his eyes, but silently agreed. Maybe it would be nice to have a friend down in Trollmarket. He just hoped Draal wouldn’t be a violent brute like the majority of other trolls he’d seen around.

“So what about you? Do you have any relatives?” As far as Jay could remember, he hadn’t seen any other trolls in the Market who looked remotely like AAARRGH, although he hadn’t seen any that looked like _ him,  _ either.

(Though he wouldn't admit it, it was something that saddened him a little, the realisation that a loss of memory was only one of many differences he shared with the other trolls.)

AAARRGH stilled, his eyes blowing wide for barely a fraction of a second. Stone limbs froze up, and Jay regretted asking, but after a moment he readjusted himself, and relaxed once again into his seat.  His gaze dropped downwards, to where he fiddled with his hands, rubbing one thumb over three knuckles repetitively. It was an awkward beat of silence before he spoke up, in a quiet and soft voice. “AAARRGH, orphan. No family.”

“Oh.” Jay noted sadly. “Sorta like me then?”

There was a deep, deep sadness, or perhaps mellowness in AAARRGH’s eyes as he shook his head vehemently. “No. Jay  _ always _ have Blinky and AAARRGH.”

“Thanks. I know.” Jay's mouth pulled into a smile, the feeling of his lips rolling beneath sharp teeth still feeling a little bit off, though he ignored it. “I think I’m gonna go take a walk whilst the soup’s cooking.”

“Be back soon?” AAARRGH asked, though it was more of a suggestion.

“Of course,”

\---------------

Although Blinky had told Jay in no uncertain terms that he was  _ never _ to step into the sunlight (Unless he wished to become a statue), the light of a setting sun seemed to do him no harm. Most of the leftover light in the sky was blocked by the leaves and arching branches of trees, anyway, so it was harmless.

Jay knew it was stupid, moronic, and really showed how he had  _ no _ self preservation skills whatsoever, but he found himself walking back along the path where he’d met the cat, his feet moving before his mind told him to. As if they already knew the way he was headed, retracing his steps, but not from the night in which he’d met the human. He felt as though he’d been there before, a faint memory tingling in the back of his mind from before waking up in the pond.

Jay shook his head and tried not to focus on it. Probably his mind just playing tricks on him.

In his pocket, the phone that had been dropped by the human sat innocently, a strange weight on his leg. One finger ran along the stiff edge of it, feeling a cool, hard surface. He didn’t know why he picked it up, but he couldn’t seem to leave it, either.

A rustling came from the bushes behind him, just a slight twitch of the leaves, but Jay instinctually twisted around, crouching down and baring his teeth at whatever was there.

For a moment, there was no other movement, and he considered that he might have imagined it, muscles relaxing. A short breath huffed from his nose, the nostrils scrunching up with the motion. He blinked slowly, and when his eyes opened again, all he could see was a blur of green.  Green fur, limbs and claws, attached to a piggish face with glowing red eyes that scrambled to scratch at Jay’s body. Whatever it was leapt out from the bushes like a tensed coil, giving no warning except a maniacal laugh that sounded like the smashing of piano keys.

The troll wasted no time in flinging the creature away and struggled back onto his feet, then began to run as though his life depended on it. Nimbly, he jumped over low bushes and ducked under swinging branches, bare feet kicking up dirt and dust in his wake. He noises of the creature chasing after him became quieter as he gained speed, its small body growling and puffing, similar to an irritated gnome.

Jay spared a glance over his shoulder.

He really wished he hadn’t - there were now three of them, three scrunched up, wrinkled green faces scowling as they pressed on after him, bouncing off of the ground in large strides which were disproportionately huge in comparison to their skinny little limbs. How on Earth their chunky, fuzzed bodies could be so aerodynamic, Jay had no idea.

In the shadows of the forest, as the sky was rapidly darkening, their slitted eyes began to glow menacingly, the light glinting off of needle-like teeth.

Jay didn’t pay attention to where he was going - he just ran. Aimless in direction for what felt like an eternity, until his breath became ragged and the stony muscles of his limbs began to scream for mercy.

Huge, gnarly, and as immovable as AAARRGH, a root curled out from the ground, going unnoticed by him until he tripped over it, head crashing into the ground. His horn was the first thing to knock against the root, scraping through the wood and sending an ache into his skull.

Tiny hands scrabbled for purchase, clawing and tearing at the shirt on his back in his moment of weakness. Jay was too busy trying to suck the air back into his lungs to stop them, and instead made a poor attempt to get back up.

Occasionally, when he went for a walk around the Market with Blinky, they’d end up strolling past a magnificent arena, the walls tall and chiselled by the faces of trollish warriors.  _ The Forge _ , he had called it, a tone of awe seeping into his voice before carrying on again, Jay trailing after him. He’d seen glimpses inside, a few flurried moments of multiple trolls charging against one another, the movement of a carefully trained weapon clashing with brute strength upon an opponent. He’d gotten the impression that trolls had a sort of warrior culture going on, as shown by the abundance of fighting both in the forge or just in the street. Some considered it a polite greeting to pommel another in the face. Even though he was a troll himself, he had little experience in a fight, unless you counted exterminating the gnome in Blinky’s library.

Yet somehow Jay’s body moved for him, his arm twisting around to grab the ankle of one of the critters, and then using its own momentum to send it slamming into the trunk of a tree. The remaining two exchanged a look of uncertainty, allowing Jay a brief moment to push himself onto his feet and rebalance himself.

The muscles in his calves sparked a familiar feeling, tensing and coiling like a spring before suddenly gaining altitude, propelling him onto a thick branch above, which he clumsily managed to plant his feet on. The wet bark was crooked and rough underneath his toes, slippy so that he had to use his hand with an additional finger to steady himself, leaning against the trunk. Out of the corner of his eye he sensed the glow of the gem embedded in his pectoral, and upon a closer inspection, noticed that it was erratically pulsating.

He had only a brief second to think  _ What the hell- _

And then one of the creatures was up in his face, knocking him backwards and off the branch. Jay fell through the air for a moment, gravity lodging its claws in him to drag him down, before he righted himself and landed on planted feet. His vision swam, muddled by the shadows. A dull throb emanated from the tip of his right horn, though thankfully adrenalin kept the pain at bay.

Their eyes were now a ferocious red, angry and furious as they intently glared at him. He knew why - the tree that he threw their friend at now sported a large green splatter of goop, its body evidently liquefying upon death.

The rest that happened was a blur - his knock to the head, paired with a weary and out of breath body led to a lack of energy which made his limbs feel like jelly. The only sound in his head was the thumping of a heartbeat, too fast, too irregular.

At one moment, he was empty-handed, and in the next he had evidently picked up a fallen branch because the long object, hard and crooked in his grip, was used to swipe across the air in a swift arc. It collided with the creature mid-leap, sending green goo flying everywhere, a few droplets splashing onto blue skin. The last one evidently didn’t want to meet the same fate as its friends, and scurried away, creeping into the under bushes.

Jay didn’t care to go after it.

A dull thud reached his ears, and he noticed the branch had fallen from his fingertips, landing on the wet grass ground.

_ What the hell just happened? _

He _ needed _ to go home.

However, in his haste to escape the attacking little monsters, he hadn’t taken the time to even look where he was headed, too focused on outrunning them. It didn’t help that his blow to the head was stopping him from thinking straight.

_ Need...to go home _ , He reminded himself, sluggishly jogging in no particular direction. It was a miracle he didn’t trip over his own feet, or on another root again.

There were lights, blazing from beyond the trees and fuzzy in his vision. Somewhere distant in the back of his head he knew that those lights belonged to the human town above Trollmarket, and despite Blinky’s warnings to stay away from humans at all costs, Jay found himself speeding towards it, eventually falling into a well-worn path.

Pointed ears flickered at the sounds of cars, and though Jay couldn’t quite picture what a car actually was, he could still associate the chugging noise to it.

The trees began to clear, or at least thinned out, and upon slowing down Jay realised he’d arrived at the border where the forest merged into the town. As if the residents were trying to push the woodland away, there was a humongous pile of trash layed and hulking up against the back of a wide building, polluting a mossy and gravelly ground. It was layered by the scents of animal droppings and alcohol, rotting wood and damp furniture.

It was  _ definitely _ not home, he thought, a swell of panic growing in his chest, the stone in his chest pulsing so brightly that it had a dizzying effect.

Jay came to a skidding stop, his toes catching on the edge of a sheet of metal, once again causing the troll to trip over with a clatter of metal and rolling trash.

Except this time he didn’t get up. The world dissolved into an inky blackness, and his physical grip on the floor softened until he felt nothing.

\--------------

  
  


As always, Toby's house smelt of cat fur and cold cups of coffee left abandoned by Nana all around the place. It wasn’t a particularly _ nice _ smell, but it was the one he was used to, the one which was a clear indication of  _ home _ .

Why was he even so freaked out? Even if that blue guy had, for some reason or another, decided to pick up his phone from where he’d dropped it, it wasn’t as if he could track Toby down with it. Why would he, anyway?

No. He shook his head to physically dispel the paranoid thoughts. All he’d seen was some guy, wearing weird as hell SFX makeup, and he’d dropped his phone.

It was unfortunate, but nothing weird. 

“Nana?” Toby called out, coming down the stairs from his bedroom and spotting her round form in a rocking chair. She couldn’t be a more quintessential grandmother, and sometimes Toby found it hard to imagine that she could be anything else, even with the framed photo of a younger Nancy hung above the mantelpiece.

Huge, circular glasses perched precariously on the tip of her button nose, angled down towards the bundle of green wool in her lap. The  _ click clack click _ of knitting needles echoed around the room, expertly maneuverered by wrinkled, liver-spotted hands. At her feet, which were snug within the fuzzy pink slippers Toby had given her for her birthday, two cats were curled up. Mr Meow-Meow’s long-hired head was using Jeremiah’s hairless body as a pillow, and looked quite content about it, if the obnoxious purring was anything to go by.

“Oh! Toby-pie, I didn’t hear you come in!” She let her knitting project down in her lap, and twisted her thick neck around to see him. “I must have been concentrating too much on knitting Jeremiah’s new sweater! How was school?” Her teeth shone when she smiled, or at least however many of them were still there. At the mention of his sweater, Jeremiah tilted his head upwards, interested.

“Yeah, it was pretty good - I might help out with the school play a bit.”

Nana’s unseeing eyes widened, genuinely shocked. Her grandson had scarcely ever intentionally hung out with kids his own age - at least not in the past year since Jim had gone missing. “Really?” 

He shrugged. “Maybe, I haven’t really decided yet. Also I think I lost my phone on my way to school, but you have that tracking app, right?” Telling Nana that he'd lost his phone because a guy in scary makeup frightened him probably wasn't the best idea.

“Oh, yes, I think so Dearie.” Nana leant over and reached for the glittery pink phone on the coffee table, and then took an extraordinarily long time to locate the app on her phone and get it running. Toby had long since learned that old people didn’t take kindly to ‘youths’ helping them with their technology, so he fidgeted with his fingers in the long silence, punctuated by the tapping of long nails on a glass screen.

She gasped in that exaggerated, innocent manner, the same sound that she made when a sudden twist happened in a detective show. “Oh Lord, what on Earth is your phone doing at the _dumping ground_? I didn’t know you cycled past there on your way to school!” She exclaimed in a surprised voice, squinting at the screen suspiciously.

_ I don’t, _ he kept to himself, stepping behind her so he could look over her shoulder at the screen. Sure enough, there was a pinging blue dot on the map, glowing cerulean at what was colloquially known as ‘the dumping ground’ - an area near the outskirts of town where people dumped old furniture and trash.

Toby was beyond words. How on Earth had his phone gone from the forest, to the edge of town? 

Maybe it was some childish paranoia, but he really didn’t want to go alone. “Could you drop me down there?” He asked, in a strained voice.

Nana shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry Dearie, but I don’t think my legs are up for driving. I think I saw Walter pull in a while ago, I’m sure if you asked nicely he’d drive you-”

Toby's voice was strained and rushed when he spoke, trying to cut off Nana before she got any further. “No, no it’s okay, Nana. I’ll just cycle there.” His stomach sank at the thought of sharing a car ride with Mr Strickler, or having to hold an actual  _ conversation _ with him. History lessons were already awkward enough, especially since the guy had invited him over for _Christmas dinner_ of all things.

“Oh, all right then. But don’t stay out too long, all right?”

Toby pecked her on the cheek. “Of course, Nana.”

It was almost night by the time Toby made it there, the sky tinged a dusky pink where the sun had set, and the rest of it an encompassing, dark blue. The stars were still not out, but the moon was, very faintly watching from above. It was a smelly, horrid place, a conglomeration of sad objects tossed away without a second thought where the forest merged and met the urban area of town. At one point, in order to help with the horrendous pile of litter, the council had installed dumpster bins, large plastic boxes on wheels which were never clean. They probably would have worked, if it wasn’t for the fact that no one ever came to empty them. Shadows danced and cast grotesque shapes on the mossy and gravelled ground, the only noise he could hear being that of a few distant cars.

Toby slid off his bike behind the slimy wall of a building, and was immediately hit by the pungent smell of pollution, wrinkling his small nose in distaste. He let his bike rest up against a damp brick wall, and crept closer, spying three dumpsters, each of them grimy and disgusting in their own individual way. The first was smeared by sauces and food stains and a dark red liquid that he _ hoped _ was just a weird-looking salsa. One was covered almost entirely by a layer of white spray paint, crude phallic symbols dotted all over, and the last was marred by all multitudes of scrapes and scratches, like a wild animal had taken a go at it.

Toby prayed to whichever God was listening that his phone would not be  _ inside _ one of the dumpsters.

_CRASH!_

He was just about to crouch down onto his knees and take a spy underneath one, when the noise jarred him, making his whole body freeze up. It was followed by the sounds of clattering metal, perhaps a pile of cans knocked over and rolling away across the ground. Then a deep, weary sigh sounded, loud, pained, and airy, unmistakably from the direction of the furthest dumpster, which was half shrouded by shadows. 

It was probably just a drunk who had passed out and knocked something over, so Toby had half a mind to just leave them there and get away. However, curse his empathy, he couldn’t stop himself from slowly stepping over, with the idea of making sure whoever they were wasn’t  _ hurt _ or anything.

Time moved slower than usual, each footstep made a dull and muffled thud against the ground, and his breath came out in long, airy puffs which then frosted up in the chilly air. The dumpster grew closer, and closer, until Toby crooked his head around the corner and looked upon the sleeping drunk before him.

Except it wasn’t a sleeping drunk. 

His heart almost lurched out of his throat with a sudden jerk of a shocked heartbeat, the muscles inside temporarily spasming.

For one short, sweet moment, Toby thought that it might have been a trick of the light. Or his insomnia finally tearing down the walls of his brain and causing a fear-induced hallucination. The guy was in an uncomfortable position next to a rotting plank of wood, his body in a heap on a metal sheet and a pile of cans still scattering across the floor from where his foot had presumably knocked them over.

With his arms curled around his chest as though someone had kicked him in the stomach, he was laid on his side, fingers fisting into the fabric of his jacket. Blue fingers. Black nails like sharp claws. The head that groaned was dark with shaggy hair and framed by menacing, flicking horns, along with pointed ears which pulled down pitifully. Even his clothing evoked a sense of pathos, a blue shirt ripped and torn, brown leather pants caked by mud at the cuffs. Dark footprints of dirt and mud emerged from the trees and staggered up to his unconscious body, as if he'd just emerged from there.

Toby stood over him for a while, just... _staring_ with has mouth agape.

With the dull, flowing fluorescent light of a distant street, his vision was much clearer than it had been in the forest and-

_This_ was most certainly not some elaborate makeup.

Those horns, large and thick and striated, turning a coal black at the sharp tips, were unmistakably real, poking from a mess of hair that had all manner of dirt and twigs caught in it. He groaned, striking Toby from his trance, and rolled onto his back, an arm flinging out and hitting Toby's trainers.

Yelping, he jumped back, though the... _whatever_ he was didn't get up. His thick black brows knitted together, nose wrinkling with an inhale of air. Even unconsciously, he was wincing, on a face that would have been human-like if not for its blue tone and curving tusks.

Did this thing _live_ in the woods or something? Toby thought back to all the times he and Jim had rode through the woods and shuddered at the thought that they could have ran into him.

Heart pounding against the intercostal muscles and ribs inside Toby's body, he tried to make as little sound as possible, and glanced down at the hand by his feet with wide green eyes. Those claws had come awfully close to scraping against his leg just seconds earlier, although they probably wouldn't have done much damage through his pants - what was really weird was that the hand had the general shape of a humans, the structure of three segments per digit, yet was missing a finger. Not in the way that one had been cut off, more in the way that the hand had never had one to begin with, given that there were only three knuckles. _'Uncanny Valley',_ he thought to himself.

There were so many thoughts going through Toby's head that he didn't even know which one to follow, so he just froze up, gawking at the blue creature and wondering what he should do now.

His bike was only a few metres away. He could sprint to it, hop on, and cycle back home without looking back. He cold pretend this was just one weird, _weird_ dream and get on with his life like normal. Maybe he could join the play like Claire asked him to and focus all his energy on that so he wouldn't have to think about the guy laying in front of him, or spend anymore moments wallowing in sadness for Jim.

Creeping away, he decided to do just that, each footfall quieter than the last so that there was no chance of waking him. He was just about to jump onto the seat, his hands already curled around the cold handlebars, when he heard a pained whine, small and almost pathetic. It echoed around Toby, and after an internal debate, he left his bike, and strode back over to the unconscious creature, whose breaths were deep and weary. 

It was complete nightfall by now, and if he didn't get back home soon then Nana would begin to worry.

It was a bad idea. Toby knew that it was a bad idea. Did he do it anyway? Yes. Yes he did.

Crouching down, he hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the rough skin underneath his shirt, and then shook it, before jumping backwards and out of range. Thankfully the only response he got was a confused groan, and his eyelids stayed firmly shut. Toby slowly moved closer again, grabbing his feet and beginning to drag him back towards the woods.

Whatever he was, he was clearly out of it and uncomfortable, so the least Toby could do was drag him behind the trees so that no one would find him and call the police, or something like that. He'd learnt from watching the _Gun Robot_ movies with Jim when they were little that humanity didn't usually take kindly to meeting with another species of sentient being - especially when they looked so...different.

Well, he tried to drag him back into the woods. As soon as Toby's fingers came into contact with his ankles, he realised that what he'd mistaken as skin was actually a soft, malleable stone which defied all the geological facts Toby had stored in his head. He was about as heavy as the stone skin implied, and took a great deal of effort to move from the trash heap to the edge of the trees. He had to stop every few seconds, catch his breath, and then carry on again, all whilst ignoring the voice in his head that screamed _What are you doing?_

Blue limbs were jostled and uncomfortably pulled through the muddy ground, eventually reaching soft grass after a solid seven minutes of Toby's exertion, by which point he was drenched with sweat. But he wasn't done yet. He had only reached the edge of the forest, and the urban lights still reached him. re was a mound of bushes up ahead, brambles and intertwined vines of leaves creating a wall of sorts which Toby pulled him behind.

He hadn't woken up once, only eliciting a few grunts every minute or so, and even though he had no idea _what_ or _who_ he was, Toby was slightly worried for his wellbeing. Also worried for his own wellbeing, that at any moment he'd wake up and with a swipe of his menacing claws scrape apart Toby's skin.

It was dark, but Toby still tried to recall some of the first aid tips Dr L had given him. Light fingered, he tried searching for blood on his body, trailing over blue skin until his hand bumped into something hard on his leg. For a moment his eyebrows rose up in shock, and he thought maybe a bone had become dislocated and was pulling at his skin, but after tentatively pressing harder, he realised what it really was - his phone.

Well that explained why the tracker had led him there.

Feeling way more brave than he should have been, Toby extracted it from the leather pocket in his pants, sliding it out and then backing away slowly. He avoided stepping on any twigs, but after dragging the dude like a hundred yards without so much as his eyes fluttering open, there was little chance he'd wake up.

_I hope you're okay,_ he told him, but only in his head, before running off towards his bike, half convinced that he was in a very intense, very odd dream.

\--------------

There was a slight drizzle flitting in the air, cold and sharp as it splashed on Claire’s purple umbrella. Standing under the shelter of an awning above the door, she shook it out, allowing clear rivulets of water to flick off of it in all directions, and then folded it away so that it could be stored in her backpack.

_ ‘Avalon Books and Antiques’ _ The golden lettering on the glass pane in the door read, surrounded by a border of blue wood that was chipped so that the previous layer of paint could be seen beneath it. Claire pushed it open carefully, listening for the familiar tinkle of a bell triggered by the door that echoed around the store.  Inside, it was dimly lit by golden bulbs hanging from a high-up ceiling, none of them covered by lampshades so that they had a retro, rustic style. Bookshelves covered the expanse of the walls, filled by so many books that no more could possibly be added, a few of them so squished that their spines squeezed out as if the pages might burst. A few shelving units were in the centre of the room, carved from an old, ruddy wood that sturdily showcased various antiques.

There weren’t any customers, but that was hardly anything new - Douxie must have been  _ mad _ to set up a magic shop in Arcadia, but whenever Claire had asked him about it he’d only muttered something briefly about ley lines before moving on to something else.

“Hey, Doux?” She called out, stepping across the squeaky floorboards in order to traverse to the counter at the back of the store. She walked past a long, green table showcasing a row of vases, and dragged her fingertips along the rim of one, feeling chipped pottery.

“He’s in the back room, I’m afraid.” A voice spoke up from behind the register, shortly followed by a dark form which leaped up onto the counter, and stretched his furry feline legs. Archie’s glasses were a little askew on his face, and he pushed them into place with a paw, yawning. Clearly Claire had woken him up from his afternoon nap.

Chipper as ever, she offered her hand for Archie to rub his face against, coveting the sound of his purr. “Hey, Arch, how’s business?”

He snorted, jumping onto the floor and padding to the staircase for her to follow. Claire asked the same question every time she came over, more as a joke between friends rather than anything serious. “Oh you know, the same as usual - by which I mean no business at all.” Archie satirically spoke, the edges of a smile creeping up his lips. 

Whoever said cats couldn’t smile clearly hadn’t met this one.

The first time he’d spoken to Claire, a mere five minutes after Douxie had revealed to her that magic even existed, she’d almost soiled her pants. But after two years of seeing Archie regularly, she'd managed to get used to him.

Once the witch and the talking cat made their way to the landing atop the stairs, Archie butted a creaking door open with his head and beckoned for her to follow in. A black tail wafted through the air lazily with each strut of his light-footed steps, seemingly with a mind of its own.

Douxie looked as he often did - hair in a messy, lazy bun, eyes flicking from the page of one book to another intensely, and long fingertips drumming across whichever surface was nearest. His casting room, which was where the magic happened (Although Douxie had begged Claire not to phrase it like that) was wide and tall, too large to possibly fit inside such a small building. She’d learnt that it was due to an enlargement spell to make things bigger on the inside, and had promptly used the same spell on her backpack for school.

A round table sat in the middle, covered entirely by a mass of books, paper, and parchment, a few glowing gems haphazardly scattered across it. The wizard himself was engrossed by a red book in his hands, the spine adorned in golden cursive, and when Claire glanced at the pages, she realised that the illustrations were  _ moving _ .

Douxie apparently hadn’t noticed her appearance, muttering something under his breath whilst his brows furrowed in frustration.

“Uh, Doux?” Claire asked timidly, waving a hand in front of his face.

> He blinked blearily over golden-yellow eyes, coming back to reality and jumping away from her suddenly. “Blimey Claire! I thought you weren’t going to be here until seven!”

“It’s seven-thirty.”

“Oh.” He ran a hand through his hair, then closed the book with a heavy thud and placed it on the table. “Sorry, guess I just got a bit caught up with all of.. _.this._ ” Douxie gestured at the mess which was his table, just as Archie pounced onto it, sending a sheet of paper fluttering to the ground, though he didn’t seem to care.

Claire considered what he’d been working on, glancing at the parchments laid out. Some were maps, though most of them seemed to be scripture, snippets of poems or tales written in aged cursive inks. “What is all this?”

“Just research.” He pinched his long nose, before taking in a deep breath. One large hand came to rest on her shoulder, golden eyes staring into hers and blazing. Then they darted away, unsure. “Claire, I think something bad’s coming.”

Her heart dropped. Rarely did Douxie ever seem this serious. “How bad? Like, Morgana bad?”

She still had nightmares about that foul demon's possession of Claire's body.

He shook his head solemnly, biting down on his lip his lip. “Worse, I'm afraid.”

Archie coughed to get their attention, sat up straight on the table with an impeccable posture. “I misplaced my glasses earlier, and when Douxie tried scrying to find them…”

His wizard-familiar continued for him, voice quiet and mellow. “I saw something. Something big, and strong, and consuming. And I think it's coming towards Arcadia.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I have a very extensive amount of worldbuilding solely on Nana's cats. But Jeremiah and Mr Meow Meow are my favourites.
> 
> Exams are mainly over, and Boris has cancelled my GCSEs, so that means I have more time to write, at least - from now on updates are probably gonna be a little more regular.
> 
> Any questions or comments are welcome! I really love hearing what people think!
> 
> Also if you liked this, leave kudos!


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